CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX #2
I tug one of her braids. “Be careful, Sarah.”
“Why? You didn’t tie me up in bed. I can still slip away.”
Fire. Pure fucking fire.
My cock twitches, my mind snaps straight to the image of her, tied up, knowing she can’t go anywhere until I’m done with her.
My voice drops, low and rough. “Fuck, I’m gonna make you pay for putting that image in my head.”
She giggles, fingers drifting over my abs, her touch light but hot as hell. “Make me pay, Outsider.”
I pull her over my body, letting her feel just how fucking hard I already am. She curls her leg over my hip, her slick heat pressing against my thigh. She bites her bottom lip, eyes raking over me, filled with heat and need.
“I swear to God, if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll never let you out of this bed again,” I warn, my mouth hovering right over hers.
“Is that a promise?” she asks, and those flushed cheeks just do me in.
I take her nipple between my lips, sucking hard, dragging a moan straight from her throat. Then I move to the other, giving it the same attention.
“It is,” I say between slow sucks at her nipple, “but you might change your mind when you hear what I have to tell you. Especially today.”
My hand sliding down to grab a handful of her ass. She lets out a shaky breath, her fingers curling in my hair, holding me there.
“What could possibly be better than this?” she sighs, pressing those perfect, soft-as-fuck tits to my chest, her body molding right into mine. My fucking paradise on earth.
A growl escapes me, my cock pulsing against her, aching to bury myself inside her, to own her, to make sure she never forgets she’s mine.
Her freckles are scattered across her chest and shoulders like a constellation, and her whole body’s warm.
I bury my nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as I slide my hand lower, over every inch of her body I’ve kissed and tasted and worshiped a thousand times. And I’ll do it a thousand more.
My fingers trail up her thigh, circle her entrance, sliding through the wet arousal pooling there, barely slipping in before I pull away, making her whimper from the loss.
Her eyes flutter shut as she grinds against my hard length between her thighs, and I swear to fucking God, I almost flip her over and take her right then and there.
But not yet. I have other plans for her this morning.
“Sarah, do you want to keep going…” I murmur, my teeth grazing her skin before I lick the spot, “or do you want to go outside and get your birthday present?”
Her eyes snap open, and she jumps out of bed, her bare ass bouncing as she grabs her clothes off the chair, practically vibrating with anticipation.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “All right then, looks like it’s the present.”
I lean back against the pillows, watching her as she laces up her boots, loving every second of seeing her so happy.
“Just so we’re clear, though. We’re definitely finishing this conversation later.”
◆◆◆
My hand drifts to the small of her back as we step into the fire station.
“Makes perfect sense you were born on Halloween. Probably why you’re so obsessed with chocolate,” I say, pushing the door shut behind us. The barricades Michael built our first night in Denver lock into place behind us.
Sarah huffs beside me, her eyes locked on the ballet shoes I gave her. I figured they’d make a decent birthday gift. And the way she kissed me after opening the package? Yeah, I knew I got it right.
“It’s a curse, that’s what it is,” she grumbles. “Halloween and a birthday without chocolate? That’s just… wrong.”
I bite back a grin, because fuck, she’s adorable when she’s pissed.
“Wait until it’s Christmas—your birthday, by the way—and there’s no tree.”
“Yeah, but come on, Christmas without a tree doesn’t even feel like Christmas.”
She snorts. “Exactly. And Halloween without chocolate isn’t Halloween.”
“You’re right. There’s something seriously wrong with this city. Not a single bar of chocolate anywhere,” I say, pulling her hood down now that we’re safe inside, taking in her beautiful face and the way her braids fall around it.
“Told you,” she huffs.
“SURPRISE!”
Sarah spins around, her eyes sweeping over the room.
The place is buried in pink balloons from floor to ceiling, and it smells like strawberries.
Alicia’s holding a cake stacked with enough pink frosting to knock someone out.
Michael’s beside her, holding a small pink box that I already know has a book inside.
Going to the store next door to give Sarah her present was just an excuse. Michael and Alicia needed time to set everything up.
“Oh my God, you threw me a surprise birthday party?” Sarah gapes at me. “Wait, where did you even find balloons?”
“Took me two days to find the balloons. Alicia traded some canned peaches for them.” I wrap my arm around her waist, smirking. “But it was worth it. It’s not every day you turn twenty. Just think, one more year and you’ll be legal to drink beer.”
We both laugh as we walk over. Michael pulls her into a hug before ruffling her hair like the pain-in-the-ass big brother he is.
“Happy birthday, little sister. You annoy the hell out of me, but I still love you.”
Sarah screeches, smacking his hand away. “The braids, Michael! The braids!” She’s scowling, but the smile never leaves her face.
“I made the cake. Blondie said you liked strawberry,” Alicia says, giggling.
Sarah narrows her eyes at Michael, who just laughs. “Yeah, right. That’s his favorite flavor. I like chocolate.”
Alicia’s smile falters, looking a little confused, maybe even embarrassed, but Sarah jumps in fast.
“I love it anyway, Alicia. It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”
Alicia grins again, brighter this time.
Sarah’s been avoiding the kitchen ever since the naked-Alicia incident.
So have I. The sheer number of times I had to say “sorry” after walking in on Alicia that first day she and Michael started fucking was enough to make me stare at the ground for two days, just in case I accidentally saw someone else naked who I wasn’t supposed to. Michael’s gonna pay for that one.
Funny thing is, Alicia’s not just that awkward memory burned into my brain anymore. She’s a friend now. After Michael told me her story a few nights ago, it stuck with me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
Tyler Reed really messed with her head. That’s why her mood changes so much. He didn’t just control her—he owned her, like she was his property. The fucking bastard even branded her with a tattoo of a bird. His mark.
I shake the thought off, fish my lighter from my pocket, and grab a little pink candle too. After lighting it, I stick it in the center of the cake.
Sarah’s green eyes catch on the candle, lighting up like she’s seeing something new.
“Why a candle?”
And that one question says everything. She’s never done this before.
“It’s an old tradition. On your birthday, you’re supposed to make a wish when you blow it out.”
“A wish? Like when you see a shooting star?”
“That’s right.”
“Wow! That wasn’t in the book of old traditions.” She bites her lip, trying to hide a smile before adding, “So I’ve got, like, nineteen years of wishes to catch up on.”
She closes her eyes, probably thinking hard about what to wish for. She takes a deep breath, and the second she blows out the candle… everything goes wrong.